


Tantrum

by RageKiss



Series: Spin the (Baby) Bottle [12]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Diapers, F/M, Infantilism, M/M, Mommy Kink, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 13:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11186091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RageKiss/pseuds/RageKiss
Summary: Ray has a fit of temper and has to deal with the consequences.





	Tantrum

Ray could never be sure what exactly spurred some of his actions. Whether it was going out of his way to be inflammatory or simply having random bouts of silliness, the exact nature of _ why _ he behaved that way eluded him. Ray supposed, at the heart of the matter, he craved attention, whether positive or negative. He wanted to provoke a response, getting people to talk to him, to talk about him, or simply to think about him. He knew how childish it was to deliberately say and do hurtful things, even things that he did not mean and later regretted.  
  
At times, Ray felt like a kid throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. The thing most adults have forgotten as they mature is that tantrums are never about the item the kid is screaming to have; it’s about power. All focus, even from strangers, goes to that child. Ray wondered if anyone ever noticed how children behave when they actually get what they want straight away in the midst of a tantrum. Sometimes, the child will continue to carry on, even after the exhausted parent caves to their demands, promising whatever tooth-rotting, sugar-coated cardboard cereal they wanted. It was never about the cereal to begin with; it was just the kid’s way of letting the parent know “I can make you do exactly what _ I _ want.”  
  
_ It’s the little victories that matter _ , Ray thought, sitting on the playmat in the middle of the Ramseys’ living room.  
  
Crayons scattered around him, Ray half-heartedly scrawled in a coloring book. It had been a while since he had been back to the Ramseys’ home for a playdate. While Geoff and Griffon busied themselves with preparing food and bottles in the kitchen, Michael and Ray were left to their toys in the adjoining room. Michael seemed contented to push his stuffed moose around on top of a Fisher-Price firetruck.  
  
Growing bored with drawing obscene doodles on top of the cutesy line-art provided in the colouring book and wishing that Gavin was not off in Los Angeles, Ray glanced down at the the red crayon he was holding. The label read “Nontoxic and Washable!” A wicked idea already forming in his brain, he turned to look at the white leather sofa.  
  
Wondering just how “washable” the crayons really were, Ray grabbed a handful and crawled towards the sofa. Feeling bold, he picked the red crayon first and quickly swiped it across the front of the one of the cushions, leaving a two inch long streak. Michael realized what Ray was doing a split-second too late, and the other young man made a noise in the back of his throat as if to warn him to stop. Not caring about the consequences of his art project, Ray decided to continue, choosing a deep green crayon next.  
  
Within a few minutes, Ray managed to decorate a foot-wide swath with nonsensical squiggles. Footsteps approaching the living room from the kitchen, however, brought him back to reality. Unsure of who was coming, Ray crawled around the sofa, diving behind it as if hiding could keep him out of trouble. He peeked beneath the couch and could see Geoff’s sneakers as he entered the room.  
  
“All right, lunch is almost ready,” Geoff began, sounding jovial, but then he paused before his voice took on a shrill edge. “What the hell is that?!”  
  
Ray knew that he was going to be found out, but part of him did not care. After all, that was why he decided to be a brat in the first place. As Geoff walked closer to the couch, Ray felt a strange, needling sense of excitement, wondering what was going to happen. Knowing that Geoff had spanked both Gavin and Michael before, Ray thought that that might be a possibility, and he idly wanted it to happen, to see what it was like.  
  
“Michael, did you do this?” Geoff asked, pointing at the multi-coloured scribbling on the front of the couch.  
  
Michael’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head nervously before hiding his face behind Mr. Moose.  
  
Geoff took a deep breath. “Ray, get out here _ now _ .”  
  
Ray could sense how angry Geoff was, and, out of curiosity, he wanted to see just how furious Geoff would get.  
  
Peering back under the couch, Ray watched as Griffon, her sandals loudly striking the floor, walked into the living room.  
  
“What’s wrong?” she asked.  
  
Upon hearing Griffon’s voice, Ray felt suddenly less at-ease with what he had done. He did not like the idea of Griffon thinking that he was bad. Before Ray could think too much more about it, Geoff came around the corner of the couch and none-too-gently dragged the younger man out from his hiding place.  
  
“Did you do that?” Geoff asked, gripping Ray’s chin and forcing the boy to look at the stained sofa cushion. When Ray reluctantly nodded, Geoff sighed. “You are in so much trouble, little man.”  
  
“Geoff, calm down,” Griffon spoke, her tone even and soft.  
  
“Calm down?” Geoff snapped. “He deserves to get his little ass paddled!”  
  
Ray forced himself to make a whimper-y sound, hiding his face with his hands.  
  
Griffon’s hand gently carded through Ray’s hair. “He’s a baby, Geoff. He didn’t mean to make a mess.”  
  
Ray took offense to being called a baby. He may have been sitting in his boss’s living room, wearing nothing but a diaper and a onesie, but he did not think of himself that way. These activities were just supposed to be for fun.  
  
Griffon turned to Geoff. “Go into the kitchen and let me handle this.”  
  
Geoff opened his mouth to protest but did as his wife requested, taking Michael with him as he went, though the older man muttered under his breath, “If _ I _ had drawn on the couch, I’d be over her knee right now, but, oh, we can’t spank the precious little twink babies…”  
  
Ignoring her husband’s ill temper, Griffon knelt down beside Ray and said firmly, “You do not colour on anything other than paper unless we tell you that you can. Do you understand?”  
  
Ray pouted but agreed. “Yeah…”  
  
Griffon smiled, leaning forward to kiss Ray’s forehead. “That’s a good boy. Now, because you were naughty, you need to have a time-out. Go sit in the corner.”  
  
“No,” Ray responded, folding his arms, feeling as though he could escape all punishment for what he had done.  
  
“You need to go sit yourself in the corner and think about what you did to the couch,” Griffon repeated, standing up, mimicking Ray’s folded arms.  
  
Ray decided to make an escape, trying to crawl behind the sofa again, but he was stopped rather quickly. Griffon placed her hands under his arms and lifted him. Her slender frame belied just how strong she really was. After spending most of her time handling timber and chainsaws, getting Ray to his feet was easy. She marched him over to one corner of the room and forced him to sit down.  
  
“Now, you’re going to sit right there until I tell you to get up,” Griffon instructed.  
  
“No!” Ray tried to crawl away once more, but Griffon placed her hand on his shoulder keeping him still.  
  
Ray huffed, attempting to work up the fake tears that Gavin had perfected. Ray could not quite imitate his crying, which seemed so real even though everyone knew just how put-on the tears and sobbing were. Ray envied Michael, whose emotions always seemed so close to the surface, ready to boil over at a moment’s notice. When Michael cried, it was genuine, and Ray refused to dredge up anything that might make his own efforts feel the same.  
  
Without acknowledging his fussing, Griffon started to walk towards the kitchen. Ray followed her, his hands smacking against the hardwood floor as he crawled. Griffon did not turn back to look him, nor did she try to remind him to return to his time-out spot.  
  
In the kitchen, Geoff had gotten Michael situated at the table, giving him a bowl of Cheerios to snack on. Geoff started to speak upon seeing Ray, but Griffon shushed him, whispering to her husband not to engage with the boy. Griffon sat down at the table, going back to the jewelry project she had been working on previously as Geoff returned to chopping vegetables near the sink for their lunch.  
  
Ray crawled to Geoff and reached up to tug on his shirt, whining, “Daddy!”  
  
Geoff ignored him, not even looking down or trying to shoo his hands away. Deciding on a different tactic, Ray went to Griffon’s side, sitting up on his knees and trying to grab the plastic container of beads she was working from. Without a word, she simply moved the box further away from the table’s edge.  
  
“Mama!” Ray’s frustration mounted, and he turned to the only other person in the room.  
  
Sitting on the floor beside Michael’s chair, Ray held his hand out for some pieces of the cereal the other young man was munching on. Michael, appearing to feel sorry for his friend, picked up a handful and was about to give him what he wanted until Griffon stopped him.  
  
“Michael, sweetie, no. That’s _ your _ cereal.” She explained, “You were a good little boy, so you get a treat. Naughty little boys do _ not _ get treats.”  
  
Ray sniffled, shaking his head, surprised by the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He rubbed at his face, unsure of why Griffon’s words hurt his feelings so much. He detested being made to feel guilty, and he slapped his hand petulantly against the floor, wincing at the pain. Glancing up, Ray could see that no one even looked to see if he was okay, not even Michael, who kept his gaze fixated on his bowl sheepishly.  
  
Overwhelmed, a sob bubbled up in Ray’s throat, and he took off his glasses as the lenses clouded with the tears that were pouring down his face and held them against his chest. For a moment, he hated Griffon, Geoff, and even Michael, needing to blame them for trying to make him own up to his bad behavior. However, being angry with them quickly reverted to simply wanting their attention, and Ray sprawled in an ungainly heap in the floor, trying to make himself look as pitiful as possible as he cried. As Geoff returned to the table, Ray made a final attempt to get noticed, weakly batting at the older man’s leg as he walked by, but Geoff just went to his seat, leaving Ray laying on the floor. The trio seated at the table seemed to be doing just fine without Ray’s involvement, which only caused the boy to tantrum once more, kicking and flailing about, before quieting down.  
  
Uncomfortable and disheartened, Ray hiccuped, putting his glasses back on as he sat up. He saw that he was not going to win, and, unsure of how to apologize, he crawled to the nearest corner and plopped himself down, whimpering and still shuddery from his crying.  
  
After what felt like an eternity to Ray, Griffon knelt beside him and kissed his cheek. “Are you ready to be a good boy again?”  
  
“Yeah,” Ray replied shakily, leaning into her touches.  
  
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” she asked, her voice devoid of anger as she wiped the tears from his cheeks.  
  
Ray nodded, sounding sincere. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“All’s forgiven, okay?” Griffon assured, guiding him to his seat at the table. “When you’re feeling big again, you can help clean up the sofa.”  
  
Geoff reached over to ruffle Ray’s dark hair, letting him know that his apology really had been accepted. Far from being dismayed over not getting his way, Ray snuggled up to Geoff, reveling in the fact that the older man was now being even more affectionate than usual. Perhaps throwing temper-fits would not get Ray the attention he wanted, but the aftermath produced the desired results once he apologized.  
  
_ It really is about the little victories _ , Ray thought, sneaking some of Michael’s Cheerios, _ as long as they’re _ _ my _ _ victories. _


End file.
